


Anthem of the Angels

by TheTyger



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drama, Gen, Mystery, Post Reichenbach, Return fic, Spoilers sweetie, can't say much more, texts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-25 08:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/951144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTyger/pseuds/TheTyger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Poor Sherlock... Always said he was on the side of the angels. But angels... Fall. Tell me, Dr. Watson... Have you Fallen?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sing the Anthem of the Angels

_"There is nothing left of you,_

_I can see it in your eyes._

_Sing the Anthem of the Angels_

_And say the last goodbye."_

_\- Anthem of the Angels by Breaking Benjamin_

_Ring!_

John swears and grabs the telephone, glaring at the screen. Whoever had decided to bother Mrs. Hudson by calling the landline, was going to get their- he sighs and presses the 'talk' button. "Greg, I really can't-"

"John, there's been a murder."

For a few seconds, no one says a word.

A few seconds.

It had only taken a few seconds.

To reach out.

To fall.

For the line to go dead.

"I'm not Sh-Greg, you know I'm not him."

It had been three years. He still can't say the name. Three _years._

"Of course I know you're not-"

John hears Donovan's muffled yelling in the background.

"Yes, alright, _alright_...John, you need to see this. Just...get up here. Please."

_Click._

* * *

 

John hauls himself out of the cab Mrs. Hudson had called for him (" _No,_ dear, there is _no way_ I'm letting you drive yourself in your condition"). His mind somehow processes Lestrade and Donovan arguing, (" _No_ , alright, we need-" "What, without the _freak_ here we can't do anything for ourselves-")

_Freak. Freak. Freak._

John doesn't notice his clenched fists until Lestrade is grabbing his wrists. " _John._ Stop. You don't want to- Hey- _JOHN!_ "

"Alright, _ALRIGHT_ , I've got it!" John wrenches away from the Detective Inspector. "I've got it."

Ignoring Sergeant Donovan's wary glower, he marches into the building. A body is lying across the floor, surrounded by blood. On the wall, written in something _red,_

'WELCOME BACK'

_Welcome back._

There's a smiley face in the O.

* * *

 

_**WELCOME BACK! ;) JM** _

* * *

__

_**Oh Johnnyyyyy... JM** _

* * *

__

_**Dear me, Dr. Watson, you really ought to check your phone once in while. IT COULD BE IMPORTANT... JM** _

_**WHAT do you want? What MORE could you POSSIBLY want from me? JW** _

_**Tsk, tsk, John, is that any way to speak to someone who has something you want? JM** _

* * *

 

The next text was an address.

* * *

 

John stops outside the warehouse. He breathes in, and pushes the door open.

"Poor Sherlock... Always said he was on the side of the angels. But angels... Fall. Tell me, Dr. Watson... Have you Fallen?"

* * *

 

Molly looks up when _he_ comes in. Her eyes _(dark bags underneath. Hasn't slept)_ widen and she starts to say something. _(No lipstick today. No one to impress)_

He shakes his head quickly, cutting her off.

"How... Where is he?"

Molly hesitates. Shakes her head slowly, eyes bright. _(crying, Has been crying a lot)_ "You need to tell him," she says. _Sentiment._

"...No."

"But he's a mess, you can't-"

"Molly." He takes her hand. Presses his lips to her knuckles once. "Thank you."

She swears under her breath as he sweeps out of the lab, corners of the dark coat flapping behind him like a pair of wings.

* * *

 

John checks his phone.

 _ **I'm alive. Let's have dinner.**_ _**SH**_

* * *

 

It's dark. Two men converge at the warehouse, two who were meant to be dead.

A sigh comes from the tall man's cell phone. The other's starts to sing Stayin' Alive, high-pitched and deceitfully cheerful.

_**Not starting the party without me, are you?** _

The Woman strides out of the shadows, smiling knowingly.

They stand in a deadly silent triangle, just for a moment, searching each other's eyes.

They hear soft footsteps.

Something cold and hard brushes dark hair.

_Click._

A voice, shaking with suppressed anger:

"Told you I had bad days."


	2. The Sky Returns to Gray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arrival at the flat, things resolved.

_"...Skin white as winter,_

_As the sky returns to gray._

_Days go on forever,_

_But I have not left your side._

_We can chase the dark together,_

_If you go, then so will I."_

_\- Anthem of the Angels by Breaking Benjamin_

_**Meet me back at Baker Street. SH** _

_**Of course. JW** _

* * *

 

_**What happened in the warehouse should be kept silent. Under any circumstances. MH** _

_**Obviously. SH** _

_**I agree. JW** _

* * *

 

When John gets home, the flat seems empty. He sighs and slumps into his armchair.

A mug suddenly appears in front of his face. He looks up in surprise. Bright blue-green eyes stare back at him.

He takes the mug and sips at his tea. "Thank you."

Sherlock nods and curls up on the couch, facing away from John.

"Sherlock...I'm sorry. For what happened."

The consulting detective shifts slightly. "No. It is me who should be sorry."

They both drift off right there in the living room, filled with relief.

Heart-stopping, mind-numbing relief.


End file.
